Tempting Fate
by Elle Austen
Summary: In this two-part episode, Astro-Herpetologist, Ensign Eveline Delesprit, along with Captain Kirk, Bones, and Spock, are captured on a covert mission to Iconia in search of a declining population. Spock is forced to face an emotional trial that could leave the Vulcan questioning his stoic nature. And, Ensign Delesprit gives in to the Scientist's desires.
1. Tempting Fate: Part 1

Dif-tor heh smusma, Star Trek fans! Live long and prosper. And, if you enjoy this story, you can read the rest of the saga between Spock and Eveline Delesprit - precursors Taldurin Nights and Requiem of Desire - by clicking on my name above. Thanks for stopping by, peace and long life.

* * *

Steadily, a buzz grew louder in my ear. It zipped from left to right, always out of the reach of my palm, before it swirled in front of my face, causing me to dodge out of the way on instinct. Foreign, monstrous, and the most vibrant shade of electric green that I had ever seen, was this winged beast - similar to a mosquito but closer to the size of my hand than my nail. As soon as I had dodged its assault, a larger predator swooped in and plucked it out of the air.

My Federation-issued boots sunk an inch into the mud and silently, I cursed the jungles of Iconia.

"Beautiful." Cooed Captain Kirk, in his sing-song voice.

Iconia reminded me more of my short stint in the Earth region of Lima than anywhere else in the galaxy. Humid enough to make the hairs at the base of my neck sweat and curl, and yet less comforting in its sights and smells. Heavy with the cloying scents of sapping plants, the air was enough to make even the most trained member of Starfleet begin to feel ill.

On top of this, a linen wrap, the exact shade of the rich purple foliage that grew on this planet, coiled around my head and hung down over my uniform to cloak my figure from the prying eyes of the primitive race that inhabited this planet, adding to the heat.

"Bones, remarkable planet, isn't it? Though we arrive in the midst of destruction, beauty…survives."

During our travels along the edge of the Alpha Quadrant, the USS Enterprise received information from the Federation regarding this planet. Once, Iconia had been home to a powerful sentient species, one which attracted the attention of neighboring forces, but that was long ago, if the legend even held truth. Now, this tiny, Earth-like rock housed a small species of evolving humanoids and the animalia that allowed them to continue to grow.

"Truly. Look at these flowers, I've never seen anything like them. Ensign Delesprit, could you imagine beauty like this growing on Earth? It seems to me to be a piece of paradise, so far from home, so honest and true. Could this be what our Earth would have grown to become, if we had not so readily exploited it? Then again…maybe we weren't meant for paradise." He tapered off.

For most ships, this planet would have been off limits. It lies just on the outskirts of Neutral Space. But, Captain James T. Kirk had made quiet the name for himself, as it turns out, and the Enterprise had just what the Federation needed to look into the matter at hand.

The away mission was to be quick an covert. The Enterprise would beam us onto the planet's surface, then return the the Alpha Quadrant to await a specialized communicator signal to return. The Captain was to lead the party. The Chief Science Officer and I were to gather any remaining Hyladae and bring them aboard the ship for testing. The security personnel was to do his job, keeping things secure. And, the Captain also invited Doctor McCoy along.

Our task at hand was as follows: a species of Juramia, a shrew-like mammal growing to the weight of approximately forty-five pounds, and comprising the bulk of the diet of the native Iconians, was beginning to taper off. Research had been conducted at a distance over some time, leading Federation scientists to believe that the tree frogs, the primary food source for Juramia, has had a radical decline in population.

No frogs, no shrews, no Iconians.

So, here I am. I'm up to my ankles in mud, swatting mosquitos the size of my head out of my face, and walking ever silently with Captain Kirk, Chief Science Officer Spock, Doctor McCoy, and a member of the security personnel - who managed to get this job even though he was allergic to particle technology - through the marshes of an Iconian jungle, in search of frogs.

To be honest, I kind of like it.

"Picking up any readings, Spock?" The Captain asked, sashaying through a bubbling pit with the head of a delicate orchid cupped in his palm.

Shaking his boot loose of the mud, Chief Science Officer Spock swung his tricorder through the air. I could see his slanted eyebrows lower as he looked at the Captain, and a small smile crept over my lips.

"Censor readings are negative, Captain. No signs of Hyla Galgrekko." He turned ever slightly again, the tricorder emitting a soft ping. "Nor, of any humanoid species." He concluded.

Even through the trees, god rays of sunlight managed to catch off of the subtle scrapes and dings in the Vulcan's machine as he moved it through the air, sending streams of light out in all directions and illuminating each member of the party. The image was striking. It was as if the air were filled with golden light, and the five of us, alone in the deep jungle, were being sought out by the warm touch of that nearby star.

It took all of us a moment to realize that this warm hand of sunlight was in fact a particle ray, beaming us up onto a ship. A foreign ship. It became evidently clear when the security personnel began to shriek and recoil with pain.

—

A lush world of green and purple, of dulcet sweet smells and bubbling pits of mud, was suddenly replaced by the blindingly clean lines of a silver ship. Lights shined down on us from all angles. As fast as I felt my feet touch the solid ground, I reached for my phaser.

Unfortunately, I wasn't the first to think of this.

Our red-shirted friend had grabbed his gun the moment we began to be beamed aboard, and even before the Captain, McCoy, Spock, or I began to conceive of drawing our weapons, the security personnel had raised his phaser and been met with a vibrant blue blast of laser.

Brzzt!

"Oh merciful god!" He wailed, as the beam cut through his abdomen in a clean gutting before disintegrating the man entirely.

I lifted my hands and dropped down to one knee.

"A hasty action, raising a weapon in a guarded space craft." A deep, mellifluous voice called. It seemed to echo over the vastness of the room, and somehow managed to swirl around my head and make me feel incredibly claustrophobic.

Hurriedly, I glanced at the figures around me. Though we were all clad in purple robes, hiding our faces and features, I found Spock without hesitation.

"Tell me, whom are you that investigates the jungles of Iconia, and then so readily turns to violence when met with an unknown force?"

Pulling the cowl form his head and tossing it forward onto the floor in a single dramatic gesture, and in the process, revealing a slightly ripped, bright green V-neck shirt, was Captain Kirk. He stepped forward and announced,

"I am Captain James T. Kirk of NCC-1701, the U.S.S. Enterprise." His voice was steady and proud.

There was a silence over the line for some time, before with a crackle, that almost familiar tone returned to the room.

"Thank you, Captain Kirk, for your honorable announcement. Unfortunately for you, your presence in the Romulan Neutral Zone has proven to be a foolish, and fatal, mistake."

Suddenly, the scraping sound of metal screeched in from every angle.

Hssss!

It was quickly followed by a fast and loud hiss, as the vents opened and gas filled the chamber in which we stood.

—

My head swelled with each strained flutter of my eyelashes. Whatever poison that had filled the entry chamber of this ship remained in my system, causing the bright lights of my cell to blind me with each pathetic attempt to revive myself. I don't know how much time passed before the quiet whisper of a familiar voice finally cut through the dull throbbing in my ears.

"Ensign Delesprit. Ensign…."

Muscle memory cause me to reach my arm out beside me, to where the back of my hand, not so very long ago, had grazed against the warm, angled cheekbones of the softly sleeping Vulcan, but I was met only with cold, hard steel.

"Spock?" I croaked, my own voice barely above a whisper.

My plea was met with the gruff groan of Doctor Leonard H. McCoy, and a low curse.

"Of course you'd be unaffected. It's that damned green blood of yours. Is there anything that can kill you?" He annunciated the word 'can', and did not wait for a response before continuing.

"Damn it. Jim! Where's the Captain? Where the devil are we?"

I sat upright. My head was still entangled in the linen wrapping that should have kept us hidden on the planet's surface. I lay diagonally in a small metallic cell, with a glowing set of electric bars separating myself form the parallel chamber. It held the Chief Science Officer, standing mere inches away from the static bars, wrapped in his purple shroud, his mouth turned down with concern, as well as Doctor McCoy, who was rolling on the floor and clutching his head. I began to unwrap my cowl but the subtle shake of the Vulcan's head stopped me.

"It appears that we are on a Romulan ship. The Captain is, likely, engaged in communication with the commander of this vessel. The less attention that we draw towards ourselves, Doctor, the better off we will be."

"Wonder that you haven't been called to the bridge." The doctor grunted.

Spock turned to McCoy, but did not offer an outstretched hand, even when the doctor struggled to pull himself to his feet.

"As you would say, Doctor, I sincerely hope that the Romulans do not discover my origins."

"Oh, Urgh." The doctor growled as he rubbed his head and glared around the room.

His expressive eyebrows had crept unfathomably close to his hairline, something that he had actively been trying to stop from happening, but looking around at the grim circumstances, there was no hope in building better habits today. With a spit and a sigh, he resigned himself to captivity, slumping against a metal bench in the corner of his cell and banging his shoulder blades against the metal wall with a loud thunk! A further string of explicatives ensued.

Finally, the doctor made himself comfortable, and continued.

"You know, I don't think I've ever said anything like that, Mr. Spock. Much too cold, hard, and dispassionate for a man like myself. I'm a man of feelings, of deep and powerful emotions, like Jim - a lover, a fighter, a healer. You wouldn't understand."

"I agree that I would not." Spock added, offhandedly.

Still, Spock hovered close to the bars, pretending to examine them, looking for weakness. His movements were uneasy. Between inquiring stares, cocked heads, twitching ears, and the occasional scientific sniff, he would glance towards me.

Each time that those chocolate brown eyes met my own, they were filled with emotion. Beautiful, bottomless pools of clandestine desire. Fear, understanding, concern, longing - they were all present in those moments - and so many more emotions that I, as a Human, could not even begin to conceive. Watching him stand over me, strong arms crossed over his chest, legs like tree trunks planted firmly to the steel floor with roots of black leather boots, I felt safe.

I allowed myself a single moment of security then, letting my eyelashes flutter closed, letting myself do what I had sworn it best to never do, to remember.

To remember the orange flicker of firelight, softening his features in the chilling night on Taldurin. The way those arms, strong and sturdy, supported every flawless inch of alabaster flesh. To remember the heat against the crisp, cotton sheets of my own bed, my sanctuary in deep space. The way his steadily racing heart pressed against my abdomen, lub-dub lub-dub, and his cat-like mouth curled into a smile, totally free from restrain.

"You, Human. Medical personnel."

The sound of this stranger's voice pulled me from my fantasy. Though it was considerably more stern, it sounded almost exactly like Spock's own voice in tone and cadence.

"Medical personnel? Medical personnel! I am the Chief Medical Officer in charge of the greatest space craft in all of Starfleet!" The doctor scoffed.

Between our two cells, stood the man who had engaged the conversation. He was well over six feet tall and yet, more stout than the Vulcans, but not without the features that make the race distinctive - all ears and angles. However, his black hair curled around his neck freely, and atop his broad forehead were two distinctive bony ridges, a natural marker of the race. In his hand hung a long pole arm, the tip of which glowed brightly with the same green sparks that kept us securely in our cells.

"You are requested in the anteroom."

"Me, why?" The doctor spat.

"It is not my place to ask questions." The Romulan guard continued.

"Not your place? Well how in the devil do you expect me to follow you if you're not going to tell me what the hell you're planning on doing with me?"

The Romulan furrowed his slanted eyebrows. Though the doctors short fuse was getting ever closer to a nuclear explosion, I could tell that he felt damn clever in his retort. I disagree. In my personal opinion, the situation was looking pretty grim.

"It is not wise to ask too many questions, 'chief medical officer of the finest space craft in Starfleet' nor, to willingly give so much of yourself away."

"Too much of my - what? The devil with captivity! The hell with all of these cold, unforgiving speeches. I might as well get it from him," Bones gestured towards the Romulan, but then directed his course towards Spock. "Than from you. At least I'll have Jim to clean up this mess."

Both Spock and I cringed at his moment. The Romulan, despite his station, was keen to pick up on our body language. Far more keen than the Vulcans. The Chief Science Officer had turned is head from the conversation, but a sinister smile now crept over the Romulan's face. Readily, he tapped a nearly invisible button next to their cell, dissipating the static bars.

"We had heard that there was a Vulcan working on the Enterprise. What a pleasant surprise." The Romulan guard ripped the purple linen off of Spock, revealing his Vulcan features and eyes glowing with the red-hot flame of displeasure. "Both of you, follow me. Do not try to escape, on your lives."

"Wait!" I called. "You can not leave me, take me with them!" I had remained silent as best as I could. The Romulan turned on his heels, and when he faced me, the look in his eyes was less than settling. His smile grew slightly brighter.

"Not now, Human female. You will certainly prove useful to our crew in the future. I would not get so excited to be freed from your binds though, they will likely become a permanent state for you."

In this moment, Spock did something unexpected. He lunged aggressively towards the Romulan.

The guard turned and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. The Vulcan are a benevolent race, unlike their cousins, and the guard was one step behind Spock's actions. He took a chop to the neck, bringing him weakly to his knees, before he was able to jab the end of the glowing pike into Spock's ribs, dropping the scientist to the floor with three-hundred volts of electric shock.

"Spock!" I cried, reaching my arms out through the crackling bars to stop the second strike, coming down on the Vulcan's head.

A nearly fatal mistake.

—

A single drop of blood cascaded towards the steel floor. As it hit the air, temperature-controlled to a comfortable ninety-two degrees fahrenheit, its vivid jade hue became apparent to the scientist, as well as the searing pain on the side of his drooping head, matched by the burn only five inches above his racing heart. Groaning softly, he rolled his neck.

"You have awoken. I admit that I found myself…surprised by your reaction, but for you, I suppose that is to be expected."

The voice was delicate and feminine, but cold. It matched the metallic floors and the harsh conditions with perfect grace. Slowly, the scientist craned his neck to face the Captain of this vessel.

She was not particularly beautiful by his ever changing standards, but she held such an intense sense of familiarity for the Vulcan that he was momentarily struck by her features. No where in the galaxy, since he had forsaken his people's pleas to join the Vulcan Science Academy and had instead pursued his desires to join Starfleet, had he seen a figure that so earnestly reminded him of home. Though his childhood was not a particularly happy one, it was not without the prospects of romance, however brief, and the scientist had spent too many Pon Farr lost in meditation, lightyears away from his home planet.

Regardless of such a strange, overwhelming longing for his native planet, he, as second in command of a powerful starship, and as a dear friend to all of his fellow crewmen on this vessel, knew what needed to be done.

"Jolan tru, Captain." He greeted in the Romulan tongue.

"There are no need for pleasantries. They have already been made, and you have not handled them with the grace expected of your race, I fear…" She trailed off, stepping forward to examine the Vulcan, hung in chains in the center of the bleak anteroom.

Spock's eyes darted across the room. Beyond the lingering Romulan Captain stood two more Romulan guards, both with glowing pikes, guarding Jim and the Doctor. His crewmen's hands were clasped in manacles, and every few seconds, a small jolt of green electricity would flow through them. Though the Captain had been thoroughly questioned, he held his head high, and never took his eyes off of the Science Officer. However, the scientist could see the pain and concern in those hazel orbs. He could read the hours of torture. The desire to enact an escape. And something else. Something foreign. Something that looked beyond Spock, to the two figures that he could sense hovering behind him.

"Your Captain has failed to give me information regarding your intrusion into Romulan Neutral Space, and your apparent spying on the surface of Iconia. Though, I am certain that you would not be capable of the deception that he has tried to enact. Tell me, what do you know of Romulus in its current state?"

Spock glanced upwards into Jim's eyes. He could see the fear in them. Lie. Lie. But, his race would not allow it.

"Romulus has been blighted." He resigned, cooly.

The Romulan Captain smiled. She spoke quickly in her own tongue, and even before the command had concluded, one of the guards had jabbed his pole arm into Captain Kirk's ribs, causing him to crumble to his knees, gritting his teeth and throwing back his head. Spock cringed. And as he did the Romulan Captain grabbed his chin, pulling his face back to hers.

"You are weak, S'chn T'gai."

Spock's heart sank. He had never been so aware of this sound of blood pumping behind his ears.

The Romulan Captain laughed, her voice a cackle.

"Such a beautiful name," She continued, stroking the scientist's cheek. "A shame that you do not deserve it, Spock." She spat the last syllable of her insult, a curse on her tongue.

"It is not possible."

"Oh, but it is."

With a flick of her wrist, the Captain called forth the two cloaked figures who had stood behind Spock. Slowly they emerged, white robes cascading to the floor, hoods pulled down to cover their faces. All that was exposed were their hands, bare of gloves, and cupped at their waists. Spock raised his eyebrows in uncertainty. With another quick gesture, the two figures removed their hoods. They were Romulan, but their heads had been shaved and their skin was scared and pocked, their foreheads tattooed with three brown lines, their mouths a tightly formed frown. Spock glanced from one to the other, he did not understand.

"Your information is correct. Romulus has been blighted. A deadly plague sweeps over our lands, kills our people. It does not surprise us that this information is known to you. Despite your pathetic treaty, the Federation has never been able to avoid encroaching on Romulan affairs. How you discovered our whereabouts in orbit of Iconia, I will soon understand, but know that it was a fatal mistake. The Iconian Hyladae possess a unique genome sequence, one that our most skilled scientists have discovered could be used to alter our own DNA. It will not only cure this plague, but it will make us stronger as a species. We have harvested it, on this ship, and we plan to return to our homeland with the information. However you plan to stop us, you will fail."

"That is not why we were sent to Iconia. I surely hope that you will return to Romulus with a cure for your people, I would not hesitate to do the same for my own."

"Spock!" Bones growled, angrily. "You traitor, how dare you!" But his string of insults was cut short. Brzzt! As an electric pike struck him down.

"Surely hope." The Romulan Captain scoffed. "Hope is all you have, Vulcan. You are pathetic. You are vulnerable. You think that you can speak like snakes, the lot of you, but you are not intelligent enough to understand. You will see."

Slowly, the two robed Romulans stepped forward, extending their hands towards Spock's face.

"This time, do not make a fool of yourself."

As the Romulans pressed their fingers against the sides of Spock's face, he understood what was happening.

It was impossible.

The Romulans had lost their telepathic abilities centuries ago. The powers that once united them, Vulcan and Romulan as a species, had been forsaken for violence. This was not logical, this was -

His head spun, is eyes burned, his brain bubbled. And, unable to hold back, Spock cried out in pain.

His memory was picked apart. Pieces of his life rushed forward like a train skipping over the tracks. Each moment was ripped out of place, dismantled, and reconfigured. His entire existence, from birth to this instance, was examined by prying eyes, and there was nothing that he could do to stop them.

"At one point I would have pursued you, though the Vulcan shun their emotions, burying them behind the cold mask of logic, I would have considered you to be different. How wrong I would have been, for you have been dealt the worst aspects of each race. You think you are strong, but you will never be strong. You were born weak. Your father made you weak, giving in to unprofitable desires."

The image of Spock's father flashed before his eyes. He reached down and wiped the blood form his son's lips, pressing an impossibly large and strong hand against Spock's head in a gesture of understanding, before joining his seated son on a bench outside of his office. Speaking only in their native tongue, he explained to his son what it meant to be in love.

"And, your mother, a pitiful Human. She made you no Vulcan at all."

His mother, tall and beautiful, with features unlike any found on Vulcan, picked her young son off of the ground and kissed him tenderly on each cheek. Quietly, with the beginnings of a sandfire storm brewing against the nearby mountains, she sang him an English lullaby, one he would never forget.

"Go on, fight against the meld, but you will not be able to break it! For years we have bred superior genes in order to reclaim the gift that was once taken from our race. It is young yet, but even the least powerful of the Romulans has more power over your torn mind than you do. You will never be in control. You may claim to be Vulcan - a deplorable title - but you are inborn."

Spock craned his head backwards in agony. Tears pooled in his eyes and ran down his pallid cheeks, gaunt from torture, and over the unmoving hands of the Romulan clerics.

Then, hidden deep, his submerged mind spilled forth. He could not hide any longer.

He was weak.

'Commander, this is Ensign Eveline Delespirt, Astro-Herpetologist. She'll be working under you in the sector six biological division, received the highest honors in the Academy, identified sixteen new species of reptile on a mission to Briggon Di.' The words were warbled. The young woman had held out her hand, delicate and unblemished. 'It's a true pleasure to work with you, Chief Science Officer Spock, your reputation precedes you'. Though the dark circles under her eyes betrayed her lily-white skin and sun-kissed cheeks with the knowledge of the previous night of celebratory drinking, and her unkempt hair hung loosely around her shoulders, it was the most exquisite shade of natural red, one that had almost entirely become extinct in the Human species since its original decline in the early twenty-first century. It reminded him of the fire orchids that used to grow on the balcony of his home on Vulcan, a rare beauty. He suppressed the desire to compliment the ensign. He did not want to be lectured on the nature of emotions.

Struggling, he pushed it away, but the images returned. Could the Romulans be right in their assertion?

'I hope that I am able to give you the pleasure that you so desire.' His words deliberate, filled with suppressed passion. For a moment, he considered that it was the poison rushing through his bloodstream, but this woman, the way she moved, the way she smiled, the was she struggled over her words, unable to reconcile with her emotions, all he wanted to do was to feel her skin underneath his fingertips. The image grew fuzzy, pushing it away. He told himself to be strong. Yet, he could feel the chilling air of Taldurin perfectly, remember the sound of the wind, the scent of her hair. Then it was gone.

'I dream about you, Eveline. I miss you.' Those slender shoulders, lithe waist, delicate features. His voice was not is own. His hands were not his own, as he gently lowered his beautiful, auburn-haired scientist against white sheets. Her emerald eyes, so large and wide and filled with hope and innocence, with love and lust, with fear and longing, scanned his cold face with a passion that he had never known. This could not be a real memory, he had no recollection of these actions. And yet, he could feel that he wanted her, wanted to share more than just this night. He wanted to be able to speak freely, openly, to have another person in which he could confide, but he could not. Not with an Ensign. Not with a Human. He knew what she wanted him to be, and it was not the man that he was. And still, those eyes, brimming with Human emotion. To be looked upon that way, and to desire it, burned the back of his mind and broke him.

He unleashed a pained, violent scream, thrashing against the chains that bound him.

"Just when I thought that I had understood you, S'chn T'gai. You disgust me. You behave as your father did, and I know how that pains you, I have seen it. And yet you choose a Human. An unintelligent, emotional, and conflicted woman. But never far out of your reach, Officer. Do you wish to continue to muddle your gene pool, until there is nothing left? Is that what you desire? Strip it all away. You do not want to be Vulcan. You are Human! You do not deserve your name or title!"

—

I strained and kicked at one of the guards that held me above the ground, my boot colliding with his knee with enough force to cause him to turn to me and unleash a threat in his native tongue. I hissed and spat like a wild cat. He dug his grip further into my arm, his nails biting down against my pale flesh, breaking the skin.

"We would give you to the crew if your specialty were not needed, Human Herpetologist. However, if you do not oblige to the Captain's wishes, I would be the first to have my way with you."

"You do not scare me, Romulan." I growled, my voice ragged and filled with a steadily growing hatred. Though my arms ached with the burn that had been inflicted by my cage bars, and by the blood beginning to pool through my powder-blue uniform, I fought.

"No, I expect that you do not. Humans are not intelligent enough to know when to be afraid." His voice rose with each syllable, and when it had reached his peak, together, the guards threw me onto the steel floor. My body collided with the cold surface as I crumbled into a heap against a sliding door.

My arms shook. I had stopped myself with them and the burned flesh began to swell. My breathing was heavy, and I fought back tears. I wanted to scream. I wanted to kill them. But, they were right. I did not have the power to do it. I pressed my forehead against the cold doors.

"Just when I thought that I had understood you, S'chn T'gai." A female voice echoed through the chamber ahead. Though I did not know his true name, I could feel my heart swell as it fell from her lips. My face sank, as did my gut. Spock.

"Spock!" I screamed, and pounded my fists against the door.

"You disgust me. You behave as your father did, and I know how that pains you, I have seen it. And yet you choose a Human. An unintelligent, emotional, and conflicted woman. But never far out of your reach, Officer."

I stopped fighting. Though I could not see the events that unfolded behind those still doors, I could feel an ever growing sense in my heart that something must be done, that something terrible was unfolding, and that I was powerless, now, and in the future, to stop it.

"Do you wish to continue to muddle your gene pool, until there is nothing left? Is that what you desire? Strip it all away. You do not want to be Vulcan."

A heavy gasp rolled past my lips. I could feel the warmth of blood running down my forehead. It was as if the world had paused. Those words played though my mind again and again. And, I knew at that moment, that for the rest of my life, I would wish that I had never heard them.

—

Weem! Weem! Weem!

The security sirens blared through the barren halls, so empty and wide that it caused the ear-splitting sound to grow insufferably loud. Doctor McCoy curled over and plugged his ears with his palms, but the sprinting Captain, only a few paces behind, gripped Bones by his shirt collar and dragged him forward.

I did not know how we had gotten here, how the Captain had managed to organize such an escape, but I was not entirely surprised. I frequently found myself in awe of his ability to wrap up an impossible circumstance into a clean conclusion. Or at least a relatively clean one, dodging just at the right moment, as a blast of blue laser light grazed the fly-away hairs next to my left ear. I held my open communicator in my hands, and with a click and a beep, the Chief Science Officer's voice rang over it.

"Now!"

As he made the call, I leap to the right and Bones and Kirk dove to the left. Grazing against me as I curled around the corner, Spock, his raven hair matted with beautiful, copper-based blood. He leaned into the hallway and shot two phaser blasts at the hands of the Romulan guards, disarming them.

"Great shot, Mr. Spock!" The Captain called, "I can always count on you."

"It is my pleasure, captain. Your plans are infallible, however illogical." He turned and dressed me, "Ensign." And I simply nodded in response.

The Captain held in his hand an electronic map of the starship, which he had managed to take from one of the guards after disarming him and slipping out of his handcuffs in one motion. How this was possible, I did not have he opportunity to see. Likewise, slung over the shoulder of Doctor McCoy, was a cloth satchel containing thirty-two, preserved tissue samples of Hyla Galgrekko Galgrekko.

"Alright." The captain proclaimed confidently, "The escape pods are located beyond us, we'll take these hallways on three."

Brzzt! Brzzt!

Two blue laser blasts shot at us from the adjacent hallway. As they struck, the ship began its verbal self-destruction countdown, and so did Kirk.

"Two."

On cue, The Chief Science Officer and the Captain leapt forward and grabbed two inexplicably placed decorative vases from their stands and cracked them over the heads of the oncoming Romulan guards.

"One!"

Turning on our heels, we split off down opposite hallways. I ran as fast as my feet could carry me, sliding against the metallic floor as I turned the corner on a dime. I felt as if I were floating, unable to believe the unfolding events, before a strong hand wrapped around my waist, slowing me. I looked down, and I could see the gold embroidery of his powder blue sleeves, and his long, square fingers as they gripped me both tenderly and with strength. I relinquished the moment I felt him, letting my body fall backwards and press against his own. He moved me towards him, his free hand cupping my chin as he bent forward, brushing his pale pink lips against my own before letting himself give in to a hungry kiss. Time slowed, I was certain of it. As quickly as he had touched me, he pulled away.

"I apologize. That was rash, and we are in danger." His voice barely above a whisper. I shook my head.

"Not a day goes by that we are out of danger. That we could find a single moment of peace amongst the madness that we put ourselves through everyday is, what a Human would refer to as, a miracle." I said, smiling.

"I admit that I found pleasure in our engagement."

"You wouldn't want to have another go at it, would you? After today's events, it wouldn't be fair for us to miss out on an opportunity to enjoy ourselves."

"I would not be opposed to the notion." He retorted, his voice a mellifluous slow song.

Gently, he pressed his forehead against my own, meeting me once again in a delicate kiss. His movements were tentative, discovering the curve of my mouth, the angle of my cheeks, the subtle slope of the nape of my neck, with each second lost in our own desire. When we parted again, and I playfully whispered in return, "Only moderately opposed?" He remained near to me. Not for one moment did those strong, worn hands leave my cheek. Nor, did his expression change, always stoic and still, even in a moment of intimacy.

"I have visions of junctures that I do not remember happening. In the anteroom, I saw flashes of you, and it felt so real that it seemed to embrace you was the only logical action."

I cast my eyes away from my superior officer, embarrassed.

"You lost time, after the incident on Sanduri." I continued.

"A mind meld seems the only logical action to end my inquiry. I would be most curious to know what happened." He spoke.

His thumb grazed my cheek, and his slanted eyebrows lowered slightly, as if remembering a tear than had long since been wiped away. Moving his hand to his own face, he brushed those long fingers against his own impossibly high cheekbones, finding only the dried remains of blood. I frowned and chewed my bottom lip.

"It will not hurt." He reassured.

I flashed back to the pained cries I had heard from beyond those steel doors, not more than two hours prior. Yet, it wasn't pain that I was worried about.

When I joined Starfleet, I was alone. I worked diligently through university and academy to get to the position that I hold today, even if it is not one of particular importance. I was proud of what I had done, of the things that I had seen, and of the discoveries that I was able to make, theorize, and prove. I thought that I was happy, but I wasn't. It was not until I heard my name announced for The Enterprise, to join this ship on it's five year mission, to explore new worlds and seek out new life, that I felt for the first time in my life, a spark of passion. And, it was not until I met my superior officer that I really felt like I had an outlet for that spark. At first, I understood it for what it was basally, desire. Now, I have somehow managed to let that evolve. And, it was still too soon for me to fully understand if what I was feeling was an honest expression of care for an equal - a man who I respected physically, mentally, and despite what has been said about his race, emotionally - or if I were feeling the bite of obsession, a childish desire to want something that is constantly beyond my reach. That, is what I feared that he would find. Perhaps not only that I was conflicted, a foolish Human, but the answer. One that I wanted to discover for myself.

The sound of footfall in the adjacent hallway answered on my behalf.

"We should go." I whispered, my hand reaching down to touch his own, having never left my waist. He wrapped his fingers around my own. Hand in hand, and with speed, we fled to the escape pods.

Kirk and Bones were already engaged when we arrived. Two pods remained. Yet, a third was being pried open as we turned the corner. The Captain has just managed to pull the Romulan Captain from her narrow escape, ushering the doctor into her capsule. The Chief Science Officer looked from the Captain to the escape pod.

"There appears to be room for two in each capsule, Jim."

The Captain wiped a bit of blood form the corner of his mouth and flicked it onto the woman lying on the floor of her own ship, less than a minute away from self-destruction. I could see the hatred in Kirk's hazel eyes, though as always, it was muted by a philosophical conflict. When he turned his passion-driven face to the Chief Science Officer and I, his expression softened.

"If we let her live, the Romulan's work will continue - violence and destruction will prevail. However, not to allow her to escape spells…" The Captain trailed off.

"It is not in your nature, Captain, to cause unnecessary harm to another living being."

The Captain moved towards Spock and clasped a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"It would be easy to lose myself without you, Spock."

And with that, the Captain joined the frantic doctor in the escape pod. The ending of the countdown drawing ever closer. With a mechanical hiss and pop, the doors closed and the pod was ejected from the ship.

Releasing my own, the Vulcan scientist reached his hand out to the Romulan Captain, lifting her to her feet. His expression was one of distaste, but I could see now the familiarity felt between the two species, however painful.

"I see that you have made your choice, Spock." The Romulan Captain hissed.

"Change is the essential process of all existence. Bed aoi, Captain." Goodbye forever.

And sweeping me into the escape pod, we were shot from the ship into the black vastness of space.

—

The pressure building behind my ears and the gravitational force of being sucked into Iconia's orbit made me feel like I was free-falling. Grabbing onto a screen inside of the pod, the scientist plugged in a few calculations, and two breathing apparatuses dropped from the ceiling. Without hesitation, he attached one to my face, and suddenly I was high with a rush of oxygen. I reached out and grasped at the scientist's wrist. There was fear in my eyes. There was no way to control these pods.

Calmly, the Vulcan attached his own apparatus and moved closer towards me in the pod. I wished that I could read his deep, dark eyes, but there was so much behind them that I simply could not understand. I breathed deeply, and closed my own, bracing for impact. Hoping for a safe landing. Desiring nothing more than to find the answers to the questions that I had spent the last year suppressing, and in these moments of turmoil, had been brought once again, to the surface.

"Your fear is quite logical, Ensign. However, in moments of danger, it is best to remain calm and devise a plan which would result in the most profitable outcome." Spock's voice was warbled behind his mask.

"What do you have in mind, sir?"

He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, and I could feel his racing heart pressed against my hip. Looking from the glass door of our pod - streaked with the white light of distant stars, blurred by our speedy descent - to my frightened eyes, he spoke.

"It is in unity that we find strength."


	2. Tempting Fate: Part 2

A gentle breeze cast ripples over the surface of a muddled pond. Against the bright, white sun the water was so crystal clear that you could see straight to the bottom. There, pale moss and small pebbles were highlighted by the yellow stripes and lazily blinking eyes of quiet turtles. The occasional crest at the water's surface and the distant chirp of hidden frogs combined with the soft rustle of willow leaves to form sounds so beautiful that they could have been a song.

Eveline Delesprit rolled the hem of her pants midway up her calves. Her bare feet sank into the lush, green grass. Each step of her long, tanned legs against the spongey ground felt as if she were walking on clouds.

She coiled her fingers into her auburn locks, long and curling, and lifted them from the back of her neck. The air was hot. Wet with rain, earth, and vegetation. She welcomed the breeze and longed to dip her feet into the water, to feel its cooling touch. She hoped to finally wrap her fingers around the shell of one of the turtles — Trachemys scripta scripta.

But, she couldn't. That breeze, light and brisk, it was consuming her mind. The way it reached out and brushed her cheek like the very fingers of fall. It kissed her skin, caramelized by the summer sun, highlighted by constellations of brown freckles. It danced around her ears and filled her mind with soft whispers.

"Ensign?" A voice called, so very far from here. "Ensign?" A moan, distant and needing.

She turned from the pond and looked out over the grass. A voice? It must have been the wind. All that she could see was her home, the mural of sunflowers that her mother had painted, the deck with the second stair that creaked under her feet. The small form of her cream-colored cat as he bathed sleepily in the sun.

She stepped towards it all, feeling the hair raise on the back of her neck. With each step, the vision shimmered like an illusion. She ran. But, it was gone. All gone. All that was left was the vastness of space. Black and wild and filled with danger. Danger and excitement. Excitement and desire.

"Eveline."

"Spock." I whimpered.

The wind was whipping at my face, tangling my hair in front of my eyes. I pulled it free, tugged. It was caught in something, something sharp and bight in the sun. I ripped at it and felt my soft tresses unwind and snap with force. My head ached, eyes blinded with white light, legs sore and stiff. But, I knew that I needed to rise.

My vision blurred when I stood, one hand covering my aching head and the other grasping tightly at a sharp metal edge. Slowly, the scene around me faded into the stark reality of our situation.

We had come down into a crevasse, slammed against the rock. I groaned as I stepped free of the tangled remains of metal and glass, mind flooded with visions and sounds of destruction — the creaking of metal, ripped loose of its binds. Remembering the feeling of shattered glass against my face, the strength of his arm around my shoulders, the beating of our hearts as we plummeted.

He moaned.

Our pod hadn't been large, but it had been ripped clean in half. It glistened in the sun thirty feet away, the center darkened by a body in powder blue.

I ran towards him without feeling my feet carrying me. With each step, I could feel my heart pounding. Taste iron in my mouth. The heat was creating a hazy mirage over the landscape, the silver of the escape pod, the blue of his shirt, black of his trousers, and a dull green.

Spock!

I opened my mouth to cry out for him, but nothing came.

He was prone, laying on his back with one leg exposed against the red sandstone, his sallow skin dotted with bright green droplets of blood. His eyes, always dark, filled with concentration and understanding and meaning, had become a misty swirl of dark fog. And his hands, those beautiful, strong, slender, square fingers were pressed against his hip, holding back a steadily spreading green pool above which a jagged piece of shrapnel darted from his side, glistened in the Iconian sun.

"Commander," I cooed, eyes scanning him fearfully. "Can you move? Let's try."

I couldn't wait for his response. My body was flooded with adrenaline. I dipped low and wrapped my arms under his, putting all of my weight into my legs as I lifted him from the wreckage. He groaned and gritted his teeth, trying his best to help me as I pulled him free, carrying him as far as I could manage before we both collapsed once again against the hot sandstone.

The Science Officer raised his slanted eyebrows and squinted his eyes, then relaxed again. The expression was faint, but I recognized it. Pain, and fear.

Tenderly, I removed his hands from his side and pressed my fingers gently against his flesh. The shrapnel was inches above his heart. I breathed in a ragged breath, hands shaking. I felt far away from here like I was dreaming. I wished, for a moment, that it were true.

Licking my dry lips, I shook out my trembling fingers and reached for my hip, unclasping my communicator and flipping it open.

"Enterprise, come in. This is Ensign Eveline Delesprit and Chief Science Officer Spock, do you copy? We need medical assistance on the easternmost surface of Iconia." My voice cracked as I spoke.

Static was the only response.

"Captain Kirk and Doctor McCoy, do you copy? This is Spock, we need assistance. Please respond." I begged, hopeful.

And still, there was only silence and the faint buzz of interference.

I cursed angrily under my breath and threw the communicator into the dust. The sun was high in the sky and burning hot. Why had we plummeted into the half of this planet that was a desert and not the half that was a jungle? In the jungle at least we could find shade, here, we were doomed.

Without a second thought, I ripped at the hem of the Commander's uniform and tore it loose to revealed bruised and bloodied flesh underneath. His abdomen flexed, lean and muscular and broken beyond repair. I could feel tears welling in the corners of my eyes.

"This marks the second time that you are in charge of healing my wounds, Ensign."

"It's the third time," I whispered, far away.

It was bad. Beyond bad. Terrifying. I didn't need to be a medical doctor to know that Spock was in trouble, far beyond what I was capable of. The scrap had pierced the skin above his heart, if it moved, it could kill him. If it nicked his bowels, he could become septic. If I left it in, he could die from infection. If I removed it, he could die from blood loss.

"I promise that I do not fall to injury as often as it appears." He teased, laughing slightly under his breath.

I stared fearfully from his wound to his face, wide-eyed.

"Was that sarcasm?" I asked, panicked.

The Vulcan wiped his forehead and chuckled. Beads of sweat were beginning to form at his disheveled hairline and mingle with the dried blood left behind from our shattered pod.

He thought for a moment about his response and then, no longer able to contain his fear, finally whispered, "I believe that I am dying."

"Like hell you are." I hissed.

"You should not have irrationally damaged your communicator." He mused, touching his hip. "Mine is missing."

"It was broken." I retorted. "It wasn't irrational, it was —."

It was irrational. I took a deep breath and sighed. Spock is right, Eveline, I thought. I need to be rational. I need to be logical because he can't be.

It seemed that every time he and I were thrown into an adventure, I was the one forced to access that Vulcan mindset. It felt like a test. Like if there were a God, he was putting me through a cruel trial.

I shielded my eyes and glanced skyward. The sun was high now, but it would be setting before long. We needed to find some shelter from the heat and the cold. I moved away from the man at my knees and quickly scouted the area.

About fifty yards to the east, there appeared to be an overhang in the canyon. It was our best bet if he could walk that far.

"Come on, sir." I cooed, helping him back to his feet. "We need to find somewhere to settle. We need to get you some water."

By the time we made it to our cave, the sun was starting to set. It was a large structure with a series of interconnected passageways. It provided a good place for us to escape from the elements, but also a fine place for the wildlife, which thrived on this planet, to make a home. Spock found a comfortable position and I did a quick preliminary search.

I didn't want to leave him alone for too long, so I stopped as soon as I found an area in the stone where moisture was beginning to gather. I ripped the sleeve from my uniform and held it under the drainage, collecting the mineral-rich liquid in the fabric.

For the first time, I looked down at myself. My arms burned, covered in abrasions and small scratches. I could feel them on my face, too. Still could taste the coppery remains of blood in my throat. Blood that now pounded behind my eyes.

Slowly, I rested my forehead against the stone. It was cool, comforting. It brought back the memory of the Romulan ship. It felt like an age had passed since then. How long had it been? Six hours? Eight? Slowly, I pressed my fingertips to my lips, trembling, breathing ragged — the feeling of his lips on mine, his hands, those eyes.

Tink.

I snapped back into reality, straining my eyes in the darkness. What was it, a small rock? No, something metallic. It sounded metallic. Fearfully, I closed my eyes and attempted to home in on the sound. A minute passed. Then two. Nothing, only the faint drip of water.

—

"Is it dead?"

"It appears to be so. Stay back, aloa, I'll do a preliminary."

Head, fuzzy. Body, heavy, but moving. Arms, strong. His arms?

"They are interspecies."

"They are indeed. What do you think? A mating pair? If it is possible, it would be fascinating."

Soft, something warm. Floating, like in a dream. Can't be dreaming. Must stay awake, have to stay awake while he sleeps. Have to take care of him, find Kirk and Bones and get him to the ship. Have to call the Enterprise. Gotta find the other pods. Have to. Wake up, Eveline. You have to wake up. Wake up.

"She's waking!"

My eyes shot open, wild and emerald green. Hands frantically gripping the edge of whatever I was laying on, something soft. Something, someone in the room. Sweat forming between my bare breasts. Oh god, my mind wheeled as my vision adjusted.

"Spock!" I croaked, panicked, voice cracking.

I was in a room — a shelter. Something built into the cave, well-lit and comfortable. It was a home, someone's home. A bed and rugs and candles and technology, vast amounts of advanced technology.

In the center of the room stood a woman, slenderly built with a long cascade of straight black hair. She smiled, her too-blue eyes softening. Her skin was remarkable, perfectly symmetrical, the right half lily white and the left half as black as a moonless night.

"Please, do not be afraid." She said, calmingly, hands outstretched.

Her mouth moved at a different pace than her words. I covered my chest, looking at myself expecting to see — I don't know what horrible things I was expecting to see, something far from my reality. I was bandaged, around my chest and on my arms. The top of my uniform had been cut away. I still had my translator, the holster for my communicator. I still had my phaser.

I scrambled for it, grabbing the gun in shaking hands and pointing it towards the strange woman.

"Where is he?" I screamed, eyes darting around the room.

"Please, do not be afraid. Your partner is alive. He is with my partner. He can heal him. He is a doctor." The woman took a few steps forward, her eyes focused on mine.

"What did you do to us? Where did you take us? I need to get him back to our ship. He's going to die!" I swelled, unable to hold back.

He's going to die.

Tears burst forward from the corners of my eyes, cracking the dry skin of my cheeks. I let the phaser drop into my lap, my arms were too weak to hold it. Instead, I curled up, pulling my legs underneath myself and tangling my fingers in the soft bedding on which I sat, and I cried.

Footsteps fell against the stone floor, but I didn't mind them. I had dreamed of adventure. Of a life where I did the impossible, no, where I made the impossible happen. A life amongst the stars. But, all I ever found was horror. Trouble, danger, loss, and death. The galaxy had promised me freedom and success, but all I had received was enslavement and defeat. I had lost myself, lost my fucking mind.

"Miss?" A hand reached down and cupped my chin. I blinked my eyes as a pinpoint light shined into them. "Pupil dilation is good. She's in much better shape than he is, physically at least. Were you able to persuade her to give you any information?"

"No, she's hysterical. That thing in her lap, though, appears to be a weapon."

I felt the phaser being lifted from me. I flexed my fingers but gave up. No use.

He wanted to meld with me. He wanted to see our past. Feel what I felt when he cried in my bed, when he held me, when he made love to me. I was terrified of what he'd find. That he'd see something in me that I couldn't see in myself. That I loved him, or that I didn't. Why do I care? What am I doing? What does it matter?

"Sometimes, I feel like I can't tell the difference between what is real and what is fantasy," I spoke, not quite realizing that the words were coming from me. "It's like my life is a story or a film. Each day is an episode getting more and more out of my control."

"She has some swelling at the base of her temporal lobe. Head injury." The man's voice spoke.

"I wanted him, and I got him. It was like he was handed to me. Like, it was written into the story of our lives. I dreamt of him and there he was, alone beside the fire, beautiful and lonely and willing to fuck me, because why? I asked for it. I wanted it and I just got it. All I had to do was ask. I shouldn't have asked. All it brought me was pain. And now—" I choked back tears, whimpering. "He's going to die. Two lives, intertwined by fate or proximity? That ship, riding on the wind between the stars…"

I could feel fingers on my face, opening my eyelids and studying me, pressing against the base of my head and running down the length of my spine. Metal, pressing against my arm.

For a moment, I could see him. This stranger. This man. He looked like her, like the woman. They were beautiful. Eyes impossibly blue, like the ocean. Skin, unbelievable, a miracle of evolution — exactly the same, black-and-white but, the opposite.

Then, everything went black. Soft, dreamy black.

—

Haukea told me that I had spoken to her, or maybe just spoken, somewhere in that space between dream and waking life. She told me that I had mused about reality. That I had spoken of a ship and a movie, or a television show, something nonsensical. She told me that it was likely just the product of my rapid descent towards the planet's surface, but that it was beautiful nonetheless, that it was the kind of thing that someone hears and doesn't forget.

Finding them, Haukea and Kalama, was a gift beyond fate. A doctor, out there in the middle of nowhere, hidden amongst the canyons just as we were. Hidden for centuries, for lifetimes, waiting for someone to set them free. Chief Science Officer Spock and Ensign Eveline Delespirit, two fallen angels.

"We are from Cheron. We fled from our home world over 30,000 years ago and have been hunted ever since. I fell in love with Haukea when she came into my medical ward. We were not supposed to treat the half-white, but I couldn't turn her away. She was as beautiful then as she is now. I loved her the moment I saw her, but she was of an inferior race, we would never be allowed to be together."

"And so you ran away together?" I asked, biting down into the sweet, fleshy fruit of a non-native planet.

"No." Kalama chuckled slightly, running white fingers through his cropped, black hair. "No, I treated her poorly, with disdain. I wanted to be with her, and that feeling brought with it equal parts desire and malice. I gave her only minimal treatment, sent my nurses to do my work, spoke to her in slurs, and expected her to submit to my ridicule. She did not."

"I shot him," Haukea replied from across the room, helping the Vulcan Officer through the door.

Spock cringed just slightly with the first step, but then upon seeing me, adopted his usually stoic mannerisms, his face once again returning to its natural state of immovable marble.

The Cheron lifted his shirt to reveal the scar of a powerful proton blaster. I raised light eyebrows and frowned, wiping sticky fingers on the hem of a dress that had been given to me by the couple.

"That's when we ran away together." Kalama smiled. "When I realized that I didn't only desire this woman but, that without her, I would never grow or survive. Without her, I would have remained in stasis for a lifetime. And, though we were hunted, and though, Commander Spock, your news of the destruction of our homeward brings us no joy, I believe that we would not have changed our fate if we could have. Thank you, for your offer of taking us with you. Of riding your ship on the wind between the stars."

Spock raised his slanted eyebrows only slightly in confusion but, then nodded.

"You may ride aboard the Enterprise until we arrive at a planet on which you can forge a homestead. You have done a service for me, and travel is your payment in return." The Science Officer responded, standing unsteadily with his hand against his sutured wound.

The Cheron nodded, smiled, and clasped his hands together. "Brilliant! Now, Haukea and I will leave you alone."

"That is not necessary." Spock retorted, cocking his head slightly.

"Nonsense!" The doctor chuckled, "Please, our home is your home until your Captain Kirk and U.S.S. Enterprise can find a suitable spot for 'beaming up'."

We sat in silence for a moment too long, with only the sound of my heart beating in my chest to remind me that we had made it out alive. Finally, the Vulcan sighed softly and took the pressure from his wound to lower himself onto the pillows on the floor beside me. I took his arm carefully in mine, keeping him steady in his decent.

Since Spock had awoken, he hadn't said a single word to me. His name was the first thing on my lips when I came to.

"We were so lucky to find them," I whispered, unsure of what to say.

"You almost make me believe in luck." He responded softly, the hint of smile hidden in the feline curl of his lips.

I felt my cheeks flush, breathed a breathy laugh and tucked a loose strand of curling, red hair behind my ear. Don't just snort and walk away, Eveline, I scolded myself. Don't be you, be someone better.

"I would still be obliged to meld with you, Ensign. I am…curious as to what these memories are that I do not recall having ever experienced, from when you say that I 'lost time'. If you would relax, I promise that it will not hurt."

The man held out his palm — soft and warm — and pressed it against my cheek. His dark eyes flickered in the light, his skin marred by a fresh scar that ends snuck out from the perfectly manicured bangs of his black cap of hair. His pale pink lips parted slightly as he touched me. My heart rate doubled. I could feel my palms growing sweaty, my throat getting dry. I wanted to run. I wanted to speak, but I couldn't, all I could do was remember.

Please don't. I'm afraid.


End file.
